Diamond on a Landmine
by Daddy's Little Rabbit
Summary: Arthur Hastings wanted nothing more than to find his little brother, Percival Hastings. Though, he ran into complications when he met a man that promised him the world, only to give him nothing but a cage.
1. Prologue

**Diamond on a Landmine**

 **~Prologue~**

If you told Arthur Hastings that one day he would he would be off joy and hiding in a bobby's home, he would have laughed at you and called you insane. Then again, all the best people have to be insane in this world… more or less.

He never thought his life could come to this, even off his joy. Him, laying on the ground and cradling his aching ribs in a hallway. He's close to crying, already feeling that sharp pain in his throat he forces himself to swallow. Even if Rodger isn't here, he would _never_ give that man the satisfaction of actually breaking down and sobbing like a child. So, he instead gets up, limping over to the bed and using the wall for support. He's just tired. Christ, he slept better down in his hideouts. Even if the beds weren't comfortable, didn't have blankets or warmth, it was better than living with a man who was this far gone. Weren't the bobbies supposed to protect the Wellies?

By the time he gets to the bed, he can feel the tears escape. From pain? Emotional distress? He doesn't know or care anymore. He flops down onto the bed, letting out a yell as his ribs make a small cracking noise, protesting under his weight. He quickly rolls onto his back, not feeling any better. This is hell. This is complete and utter hell and he wants to escape, _bad_. But he's scared. Too many people know him now. He'd have all of Maidenholm after him! Not to mention they'd probably call one of the bobbies and tell them where he went. If that got back to Rodger…

Arthur can't think about it anymore. He slowly brings his hands up, wiping the tears away. How? How could it all come to this? How could he let himself be held against his will by an officer?

"Percy..." The name haunted his nightmares, always leaving his mouth in shrill cries. The taller brother either being beaten by those damned Germans, or being pulled away from him. He could still hear his voice. How hurt he was. Arthur had promised to always look after him like a good older brother, and Percy was gone. Gone, but not dead, he has to remind himself. In his heart, he knows his brother is out there somewhere, waiting for him. And that thought alone gives Arthur enough strength to force himself up and hobbles over to the window. No use trying to use the front or back door in this house, as Rodger has a habit of locking him in. And the stairs were guarded by those downer detectors, as if to mock him. So, instead of trying to fight through all of that, he opened the window and swung his legs out. After a few deep breaths, he pushed himself off, falling from the third floor. He was going to get to Percy, whether it killed him or not. And as he fell, feeling as though it took forever, he thought about what led him up to this point. Led him up to the point of jumping out the window with several broken ribs with the only intention to find a man he didn't know was dead or alive.


	2. Chapter 1

**Diamond on a Landmine**

 **~Chapter 1~**

" _Wakey wakey everyone! Good morning to you! Good morning to you! Good morning to friends! Good morning to you!"_

Arthur groaned as Uncle Jack's voice finally woke him up. His back, neck and head hurt. He had slept so awkward, and now he's regretting it. Laying there, Arthur looks up at the bottom of the top bunk. A picture of him and Percy was tapped to the metal. The picture he had seen in the paper that made him lose it. He had swiped it from a copy he had found, wanting something to keep him going while he was off on this crazy adventure. He lost his job, home and old lifestyle just to go after his younger brother. In a way it made him… happy. He still had his old self buried deep inside, under all the joy he had taken for so many years.

After a few minutes, he finally got up. Rubbing his face and letting out a sigh, he grabbed his canteen and drank whatever water was left inside. He sat at the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. This had been his tenth night in Hamlyn. He made sure to pretty much run his way through the Garden District, not wanting to deal with the downers and their hostile personalities. Though, he was sure he'd be back. Knowing Hamlyn, it wouldn't be long before people started to realize that he wasn't really on joy. And everyone knew what would happen if you weren't taking your joy pills.

He shook his head. He hated how his life had become. Of course, he could go back. Start retaking his joy and just tell Miss Byng he had been on holiday. But, if he did that, he wouldn't know what would become of Percy. And he had promised to look after him. So, pushing that thought aside, Arthur stood up and walked over to the ladder. Here goes nothing.

He left the hatch, the night air feeling nice against his skin. He had wanted to check out the Reform Club before he left Hamlyn in search of somewhere else, but seeing as they only opened after 9pm, he had went back to his safe house to rest up. He didn't know how long he'd be out, and he didn't want to be falling asleep on the sidewalk like some hooligan.

Slipping past the bobbies, Arthur made his way down the street, making a few detours in order to stay out of sight. The outside of the large building made him feel so small. He frowned slightly, though walked up to the intercom. He hesitated, but finally pressed the button.

" _Hello! Please, hold up your invitation up to the camera!"_

"Oh! Um… I don't have one," Arthur confessed, "Just a uh… healthy curiosity as to what this is."

" _Ah! Well, it's a very discreet club for people with a particular taste. If you ever get an invitation, though, you should definitely come back!"_

And just like that, the woman had left the mic. Arthur stood there, arms crossed as he pondered his next move. An invitation, huh? Well, there was a woman admiring some flowers next to him. She must be a member. Why else would she be breaking Hamlyn's rule and be out after dark if she wasn't a member? And with that thought in mind, Arthur quietly strolled over, putting her into a chokehold and slowly lowering her to the ground as she slipped into unconsciousness. He had apologized as he did this, though assured she would be okay. And after she was out, he checked her over. He smiled when he found an invitation, not feeling too bad about doing that. At least it wasn't for noting!

He went back over to the intercom, pressing the button again.

" _Hello! Please, hold up your invitation to the camera!"_

This time, Arthur complied and held up the invitation. There was a delighted giggle on the other side.

" _Splendid! It's always nice to see new members!"_

The metal shutters were lifted and Arthur was allowed inside. The first thing he saw was a bobby dressed in red, eying him as he walked in.

"And what do we have here?" he spoke, his voice sending chills up Arthur's spine. He stood so tall, looking intimidating. And his smile wasn't exactly like the other bobbies. It seemed… more relax and normal. "I'm sorry, but I don't think this is the right place for your kind."

"My kind?!" Arthur was a bit offended at this statement. How dare this man judge him! "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oooh, feisty," he chuckled, "Just look at yourself. You're so proper."

"At least I don't look like no downer!" he shot back, and this was the only time Arthur had ever seen an officer frown. "Uh… I mean-"

"Downer, eh?!" The man stalked towards him, seeming to just get bigger as he tried to shrink into a ball without causing too much movement. "You really think _I_ look like a downer?!"

"N-no! I didn't mean that!" Arthur's voice went up a couple octaves, his fear showing through. He couldn't fight a bobby. He didn't even have a weapon on him! His last cricket bat broke that morning! But, hearing his voice high made the man laugh.

"Well, listen to you!" He slapped Arthur on the back. "You know, you're a bit cuter when you're scared."

"Thank you?" Arthur looked around to try and escape through the door, but felt his heart sink as he found that the metal shutters blocked his path.

"You're very welcome," The bobby reached forward, going to brush a piece of hair away from Arthur's face. "My name is Rodger, by the way! Rodger Hunt!"

"I-I'm Arthur," Rodger wasted no time in shaking his hand, his grin now starting to resemble the other bobbies.

"Pleasure to meet you, Arthur," The way his name rolled off his tongue made Arthur shiver again. He felt… unsafe. But the warm glove made his hand feel nice. He had been so cold lately. "Now, as much as I like your company, I still do believe that this isn't the place for you."

"Y-yes! I agree!" He wanted nothing more than to get away now. Warmth or not, he felt weird with Rodger around, especially how he was still holding his hand. "I-I should be going before it gets any later!"

And just like that, Rodger had pressed a red button to the right of the wall, the metal shutters lifting up. Arthur practically ripped his hand away, going to speed walk back to the gate, before the bobby had stopped him.

"Oi!" he called out, making Arthur flinch. "I expect to see you back here at 7am sharp! I want to talk to you!"

"S-sure, Rodger! I'll be here!" Like hell he would be! Tonight, he was gathering his things and leaving! If he had read in the newspaper correctly, Maidenholm was just across the bridge, and that was his next stop.

On his way back to the hideout, Arthur sat down on a bench that wasn't near anyone on patrol. He put his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. What in God's name just happened?! Rodger was beyond weird, and what would he want to talk to him for? He felt just a bit sick, actually. A discreet club with a guard like that? Hell, he was happy he didn't get any further than the entrance! Rodger was right, that place wasn't for him. But, as he thought about the bobby, he smiled. Not many of them were too friendly, which he could understand. It was just a bit sad that he took it that far. Maybe if he had been more subtle, he would have considered going back in the morning to talk to him. But, after that display of… weirdness, how could he possibly go back?!

"It's okay, Arthur," he spoke, going to stand up and walk down the street. "Just get back, pack your things and leave. No more staying in Hamlyn!"

It was past midnight by the time Arthur got back to the safe house, and it took him a couple hours to finally leave. He got something to eat, listened to the calming music that played from the radio to ease his mind, then went to work on grabbing things. Medicine, healing balms, food, canteens, joy pills for emergencies, and some bandages. By the time he had everything packed, it was nearly 7am. He quickly grabbed his suitcase, running over to the ladder and exiting the hatch. He had to leave before too many people woke up.

Unbeknownst to him, Rodger was very serious about their "appointment". And when Arthur didn't show up on time, the bobby walked down the street, going to see if he could find the smaller man. He got surprised looks, and was shocked himself to see the same man he was looking for practically running down the street. By the way he was going, he knew exactly where he was headed to. He just smiled. He wouldn't get away from him that easily.


	3. Chapter 2

**Diamond on a Landmine**

 **~Chapter 2~**

Maidenholm was a decent place, being a lot bigger than Hamlyn. He had already found a spot for himself, and after clearing out his new safe house, Arthur went to unpacking. The bed was just as thin and cold as the other places he had been. It made him sad, honestly. What he wouldn't give for a clean, warm bed in a better setting. But, he would be fine with everything for now. Just as long as he could get to Percy.

The people who inhabited Maidenholm were decent, too. Sure, everyone in Hamlyn were nice to him, but these here were new people! A new start, he had told himself. At least, until he started bashing people's skulls in just to get back home. But, that wouldn't be for a bit. And for now, he would try to enjoy himself.

He enjoyed the sunset walks he took that day, smiling as the sun hit his face. It was almost a surprise he could be happy considering he wasn't on joy. He only wished Percy could be there with him. Percy was always a quiet boy, and his only friend was Ed MacMillan. He wondered how the kid was doing. Arthur always tried to get Percy to stay after school with Ed, seeing as how his brother needed someone else to hang out with. It made him smile.

How far was Percy now, though? Not in England, he was pretty sure. He felt his heart grow heavy. His little brother was all alone somewhere in the world. Probably Germany, or Russia if he were lucky. God, how he hated what the world had come to. He hated that Percy had been taken from him.

Shaking his head, Arthur made a sharp turn to go into one of the alley's, leaning against a stone wall and sighing. He removed his glasses, going to rub his teary eyes. Was he a bad brother? Did letting Percy be taken away make him a bad person? If he could have prevented it, he would have! But he couldn't, and now here he was, standing in Maidenholm, crying in one of the alley's because he felt like shit about all of this. He needed to make it into the Parade District, and from there hopefully find someone who at least had a clue about Percy's whereabouts.

It had been a few minutes before Arthur finally composed himself. Everything was okay, as of right now. He was in a new location, he had a plan, and he was going to follow it. And no one was going to get in his way. So, he put his glasses back and exited the alley, hoping no one could see how bloodshot his eyes had gotten. Luckily, no one paid him any mind.

The stars were pretty when they started to show through the sky, the sun slowly setting and leaving the clouds with a beautiful pinkish color. He always loved seeing it. Too bad he couldn't spend most of his night outside, since the bobbies didn't want anyone out after dark. How he would love to stargaze and revisit the constellations. Really, he wanted to see Vega. Or, could he see one of the planets from where he was? God, he would love to.

It was 7:30pm by now, and he only had an hour and a half. He slipped inside one of the shops, smiling at the shopkeep. Though, the man couldn't return it.

"Is something the matter?" Arthur asked, taking a glance over at the guard, who seemed not to pay attention.

"It's just Mrs. Chaney," he told him, "She's been acting a bit strange. Do you know her?"

"Can't say I do," The man, Mr. Adam as his name tag said, only gave him a sigh.

"She's bought some of my items, but I'm afraid she's doing some risky things with them," he continued, "And I can't have my name slandered because of her! If you have time, would you mind checking on her? Just to make sure she's alright?"

"I'll see what I can do tomorrow," he promised. Mr. Adam just thanked him, and after buying some food with the money Arthur had stolen from other Wellies, he was on his way. Mrs. Chaney, huh? He wondered if what the shopkeep had said was true. It wouldn't surprise him, actually. Was she trying to make a new type of joy? Something stronger? Or was she a forming downer that wanted something to make it look like she was on joy?

He pondered this for a while before he noticed something up ahead. A bright light shining at a house, as two bobbies stood out front. One stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed as he watched people walk past. The other was pounding on the door, yelling at someone to open up.

"Excuse me? What's going on?" Arthur had walked up to the man who was only guarding, and he was greeted with an agitated look.

"Nothing to see here!" he told him, "Move along! This is something for the constabulary!"

"Is everyone okay in there?"

"I can't say. We've been here for a while, but Mr. or Mrs. Chaney will open the door."

"Chaney?"

"Yes! Do you know either of them?"

"I don't, actually."

"Well, then, this isn't any of your concern! Move along!"

Arthur walked away alright, but he went behind the house. If he was already here, then he was going to figure out this mess right now. He tried the door, only to find it jammed. He let out an irritated sigh, before he caught sight of the window. That was his ticket in. And with his luck, it was already unlocked. When it opened it though, he felt his stomach twist. Blood was splattered all over the closed curtains.

"Come on, Arthur," he spoke quietly, "It won't be too bad! Probably old anyways!"

He knew it was a bad idea, but he promised Mr. Adam he would go in. And besides, the bobbies were right outside the door! All he had to do was open the door if anything happened. Besides, what kind of person would he be if he turned away now? He was sure he would come across worse when going to find Percy. So, with this in mind, he hopped in. The house was dark, being hard for him to see. If he was correct, the old torch he carried around still had some power in it.

 _Click!_

Yes it did! He felt better now, having some light. The house was relatively silent, much to his relief. He walked forward, frowning when he noticed a couch and table blocking the way to the door. So much for his idea of letting the bobbies in if he ran into trouble. He looked around, noticing a great amount of blood on the floor. Was this… fresh?

"Oh, god!" He couldn't contain his surprise. He found at least three bodies in the kitchen, all bloodied and dead. One woman even had half of a broom stick sticking out of her! What kind of creature would do this?

"Who's there?!" He supposed that creature was the one who heard him. He felt his body tense up, his blood running cold. He had to leave. And as he went to run for the doorway, a woman beat him there. Her dress was torn and soaked in the blood of these people, part of her mask gone. She seemed enraged when she saw him, holding up a bloody cleaver and running at him.

"Cook for yourself!" she cried, bringing it down and cutting Arthur's arm. He let out a cry, falling to the ground. His torch fell under one of the fallen cabinets, flickering some before finally going out. Now, the only thing Arthur could see was the woman raising her cleaver up, ready to strike again. When she did, he did his best to move, having the blade cut his calf. Another cry came from him.

"Help me!" He knew it was useless, but he tried to call out for the bobbies outside. He was on the ground with two cuts and he was by a dead body. He wasn't ready to be like this poor person by him.

"Mrs. Chaney! Open the door!" This must have been her. This crazy, bloody woman must have been Mrs. Chaney. Honestly, Arthur didn't expect this. He didn't expect or want any of this. And as she raised for another strike, he curled into a ball. This was it. This was how he died. Inside a slaughterhouse, next to an already dead person, not knowing where Percy was or what he had become after the war. But, as he sat there, he never felt anything. He just heard Mrs. Chaney give out a cry, the cleaver falling to the kitchen ground and a horrible, _horrible_ cracking sound. It made him sick, and he slowly looked up. He watched the woman's body fall to the ground, her neck bent at an odd angle. And to his surprise, Rodger stood there, smiling down at him.

"All right?" he asked, holding his hand out. Arthur hesitated, before finally grabbing it and being hauled up.

"Y-yeah. Thanks," He avoided his gaze, now feeling a bit guilty for not going to meet him after his shift.

"Of course! It's my job to protect others!" Arthur leaned against the counter, putting his weight more on his uninjured leg.

"Why are you here? Don't you work in Hamlyn?" he asked, earning a chuckle.

"Well, I live in Maidenholm originally, but work in the next island over," he explained, "My question is: why didn't you come visit me like I had asked?"

"I-I'm sorry," he sighed, "It slipped my mind. I have a lot of things going on."

"Heh. That happens when you're not on joy," Arthur tensed up. He knew. He knew he was off his joy and he knew what would happen. "Oh, don't be so tense, Arthur! I'm not going to hurt you."

He reached out, going to pick Arthur up and hold him like he was a princess. He felt so embarrassed. What the hell was going on?

"Now, let's get out of here," he continued, walking towards the window. "I don't need you seeing anything else or tampering with evidence. I'll let the others know what went on in here later."

"W-wait! I need to get a couple things for Mr. Adam!" he told him, earning a shake of the head.

"Not today! I'll let you come back later, after I get you fixed up," he told him. Arthur just frowned. This wasn't what he wanted. Sure, he was grateful Rodger had saved his life, but he wasn't happy about being taken away from what he needed to do!

"No! Lemme down! I don't want to wait!" he cried, almost sounding like a child throwing a tantrum. Rodger just laughed at him, going to walk out of the large grassy area that was behind the house, carrying him down the street. Other bobbies saw them, but didn't say a word. Why?

"I promise I'll bring you back later," he spoke calmly, "But for now, we're going to get you all fixed up.


	4. Chapter 3

**Diamond on a Landmine**

 **~Chapter 3~**

Arthur was half asleep by the time they made it to Rodger's house. He lived across the island and by how he kept talking to him, his voice low and soft to his surprise, he felt himself slowly start to relax. Though, the constant sting of his cuts are what kept him awake the whole journey to his house. He didn't want to have this be an all night event, though.

Rodger's house was decent, actually, and pretty cozy. It was warm, too, feeling great against Arthur's cold skin. Rodger carried him upstairs, passing a few downer detectors. For a moment, Arthur wondered if Rodger had anything valuable in his home. But, he pushed that thought away. After he was cleaned up and released, he was going to be _far_ away from this house and from Rodger. The bobby still gave him the creeps, as he felt as though something was off with him.

"Sorry for how long it took," Rodger spoke as he sat Arthur on the counter. The man just gave him a small shrug. "How are you feeling? Fever or anything like that?"

"I'm fine," His answer came out short as he looked down at the floor. Rodger just gave him a sigh. "Why are you helping me?"

"I enjoy you," he replied, giving him a warm smile, even though it was behind a cold mask. "Besides, if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly one of those joy-filled Wellies."

Arthur stared at him, almost surprised. Rodger had seemed to be happy like one of the others, but as he stared at him longer, he earned himself a small chuckle.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he questioned. Arthur shook his head.

"Your eyes are constricted!" he nearly cried. There was another chuckle.

"I take Sunshine pills," he told him softly, "They make it look like you're on joy, and they trick the detectors. The only thing I have to worry about is making sure I _act_ like I'm on joy."

"So why not leave to the Garden District?" Rodger looked at him like he was crazy. "I mean… normally downers go there. They don't want to stay in Hamlyn or Maidenholm."

"I don't want to be out in that hell," he explained, laughing more. "Here, I can have a nice home with a decent job and a safe place to sleep at night."

"Speaking of which, what about your job? Isn't it past your shift?" Rodger shrugged, pouring a bit of antiseptic onto a clean rag and dabbing it onto the cut on his leg. Arthur let out a cry in pain. God, it stung so bad!

"They'll understand," he replied, "I'll tell them I was helping a… good friend in need."

This actually made Arthur smile, though he tried to hide it. He didn't know why it had made him smile, though it did make him feel good to hear someone considering him a friend. He didn't hear that much these days.

It took them a good five minutes before Arthur was patched up. He wasn't wearing his jacket anymore, seeing as it was better to get to the cut on his arm. Arthur had actually shivered when he took his jacket off, the warmth no longer being trapped in. Rodger just smiled at him. Once he was done, Rodger slowly and gently pulled down Arthur's pant leg after he was done wrapping up his leg, standing up and smiling down at him.

"All better!" he spoke, Arthur admiring his bandages. It felt nice, honestly. His cuts felt a lot better. "Now, I have to hurry off to work. Feel free to stay here since it's late, and the other bobbies won't like to see you out."

"Thank you, Rodger," The man led him to one of the spare rooms, telling him that a sewing kit was in one of the dressers. And after that, Rodger was gone, wanting him to make himself feel right at home. Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. It was soft and comfy, and after kicking off his shoes and socks, and putting his glasses on the nightstand, he laid down on the bed. He didn't feel like looking in the drawer for a sewing kit. He was so tired. He didn't pull the covers over himself. He just rolled onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest and closing his eyes. It didn't take long before he was out.

He lasted a couple hours, before his nightmares kicked in. He stood in the snow, the cold wind hitting his skin and feeling like tiny needles upon his face and hands. He held himself, walking forward slowly. He squinted, trying to see what was in front of him. He could see white, that was for sure. But… there was something in the distance. What was it? He couldn't be for sure, but from what he could see from this distance was something dark. Black, perhaps?

He got closer. It felt like forever until he reached the object, and by this time he wished he never did. The thing wasn't an object, but a person. Percival Hastings. His little brother laid in front of him, his body a purplish color. His hair was all over the place, and blood stained the corner of his mouth and under his nose. He felt sick, falling to his knees. His body trembled, and this time it wasn't due to the cold. His brother. His little brother laid in the snow in front of him, frozen and dead. Everything he had went through – all of the hell he risked his life to get through – had all been wasted. He couldn't save Percy. He started to sob, reaching forward and shaking the body. He knew it was pointless, but god, he wanted him to wake up.

"Please!" he cried, "Percy, please, just wake up! Look at me, dammit! Answer me!"

Of course, he didn't get an answer. But, that didn't stop him from screaming his name, begging for him to answer. He continued to shake him, crying harder because he knew there was nothing he could do.

Arthur woke up with tears streaming down his face, still crying out for his brother. He felt a small amount of relief when he saw he was back in one of the rooms of Rodger's house, the only light being from the moonlight from outside. He sat there, hugging his knees as he calmed his breathing, wiping away his tears. He kept telling himself it was just a dream and that Percy was most likely fine. Everything was okay.

He sighed, finally getting his breathing back to normal. He turned on a light, opening the drawer by the bed and taking the sewing kit out. He put his glasses back on, grabbed his coat and went to work sewing up his sleeve. It took him a bit, but he finally fixed it. He smiled at this, looking at his work. It looked decent. So, he put his jacket to the side and looked at his pants. He didn't feel like fixing them yet, feeling uncomfortable removing any more articles of clothing in this house. So, he put the sewing kit back and went through his jacket. He always kept his journal in the inside pocket. It wasn't too big, but it fit all of his thoughts and letters he found. He pulled out one of them, reading it over.

" _Dear Uncle Jack,_

 _I've noticed an increase in crows lately, and have been very weary about keeping my windows open. My wife bakes pies very often and likes to sit them on the window sill so they can cool, and I don't need any crows to come by and take them away. Is this something that will pass, or will I have to find another way to let my pies cool?_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Nimmy Swift"_

God, Arthur wouldn't mind having some pie right now. He remembered when his mother used to make them pie. They were always the best.

" _Dear Uncle Jack,_

 _I've been very tired lately, and I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning. I've been to the doctors more than once, and they tell me to continue to take my joy. I have done this, and I still feel the same. Is this one of the side effects of joy, or do I have another serious problem?_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Mabel Hobbs"_

He chuckled at this. Maybe he should send these back, let Uncle Jack answer these questions and whatnot. But, he grabbed another one. This wasn't a question. This one of more… dark.

" _Jack,_

 _Regarding the earlier events that took place after the war, I understand it wasn't entirely your fault, though I do understand that you're nothing but a spineless worm for going along with this hell. How dare"_

It was unreadable from that point, the words after it being scribbled out. He wondered who this person was, and what they knew about those events. Though, he understood this person wasn't very fond of Uncle Jack. He just sighed, setting the letters down on the bed. Perhaps that was enough for today.


End file.
